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The Hamilton Obsession
To a friend who I know loves Hamilton as much as Hana It was a cold November 1st night in Milwaukee, and there was still snow on the ground from the night before. Typical. It's almost always cold in Wisconsin, including in the summer, except when we have that day or two when it is 110 degrees. The rap Broadway musical Hamilton was playing for a brief period of time at the Marcus Center for Performing Arts downtown. A friend of my mom's who had seen it previously said it was really good and there weren't really bad seats in the house. My mom and my dad were both looking for the cheapest seats to see it. My mom, on an old school-borrowed chromebook from where my dad works, and my dad, browsing Craigslist on his phone. my sister, Hana, who was 6 years old at the time, had seemed to have taken an interest to Hamilton and asked if she could see it with my mom. "We'll see honey, but first we need to find tickets." said my mom tiredly. She had been having a lot of work to do recently for her job. "O. K!" said Hana brightly. Nothing really happened for maybe 5 minutes, just more browsing, until my dad found a good deal on some cheaper tickets for one of the more crappy sections off to the back of the theater that some woman was selling for around 75 bucks a piece for the November 17th showing. My dad shows my mom the tickets from the other side off the dining room table. "Hey, honey, would these work?" My dad asked, giving his phone to my mom. My mom studies the screen for maybe 30 seconds, and her face gets a bit more excited when she sees the tickets. "Um, wow. Thank you, Jeff. Those are actually really cheap seats," My mom said. "Hey, Hana!" Hana came running out of her bedroom. "What?" Hana asked, sounding very excited, because she could probably already tell what was happening. "How would you like to come to Hamilton with me?" my mom asked, with fake excitement. Hana nodded so fast that I honestly thought her head might pop off. "Yes, please!" "We would probably be a little bit closer to the back, is that O. K?" my mother asked. "Yes!" Hana said, practically screaming. I could tell all she wanted was to see this show. "Are you sure?" my mom said jokingly. " Yes, yes YES!" Hana yelled angrily. "O. K... I guess I will have to take your brother, then." said my mom, still joking. I shook my head vigorously, going along with the joke. "NO! I want to go!" Hana yelled, stomping her feet with every word and looking at me with anger in her expression. "Fine." My mom sighed, to Hana's excitement. "Yay! Thank you, mom!" Hana said loudly. "Of course, sweetie." My mom walked over to the kitchen, turned on the bluetooth speaker, and started playing the Hamilton soundtrack. "Now, the only reason I will agree to buying these tickets for you is if i don't ''have to listen to the soundtrack nonstop for another 2 and a half weeks until you two go to the show." my dad said over the sound of the song ''My Shot. "Oh, boo hoo." my mom said, Hana quickly echoing. But they should have listened to my dad. They really should have. I didn't really notice anything weird going on until the night of November 10th. Hana had been listening to most of the soundtrack for a while, and was starting to get the songs memorized. She was nonstop humming all of the songs from the soundtrack, which I was slowly hating more and more. My sister was not a very fidgety person, but that night she seemed pretty restless. A little weird, yes, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The weird thing was her nails. She had picked them dowm so much there was a tiny bit of blood coming out of each and every single one of them. But she was still picking them down, while humming The Story Of Tonight quietly. I found that kinda weird, but I dismissed it, thinking maybe she had had a bit too much ice cream and was on a sugar rush. Hana got up from the dining room table and went into her room, still humming the song under her breath. I got up, brushed my teeth, and went to bed. Things slowly escalated from there. The next morning, my sister had seemed to have taken a step up from the previous humming and was now softly singing the lyrics. This was somehow worse than the humming. "Hey Hana, please stop." I said, trying to sound polite, but it was hard to hide the annoyance in my voice. Hana ignored me, continuing to sing quietly. "Hana, please." I said frusteratedly, over the bowl of Rice Chex I had just poured myself. Hana continued to ignore me. I just shook my head and said "Whatever." It was when Hana looked up at me when I noticed something was, again, wrong. Her eyes. It's kind of hard to describe the way they looked. They were closed, but also... open at the same time. I could see both blue, which was her normal eye color, and gold, which was the color of the background of the Hamilton logo. I was tired, and thought I was maybe hallucinating so I blinked, and her eyes went back to normal, still singing. Again, I dismissed it. The next night I saw something I knew I couldn't just dismiss with the snap of my fingers. Her hair color had gone from a black, because of our Italian heritage, to a bright gold. And the eyes. They were right back to what they had been from the previous morning. I tried blinking to see if they would go back. They didn't. I jumped back, startled. I ran into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and ran downstairs to my bedroom, hoping that this was a dream, and I would wake up. The next morning, nothing had changed from the previous night, Hana's hair color was still gold, her eyes were as creepy as before, but she was completely silent. "Hana, are you O. K?" I asked, because I had been getting kind of used to the quiet humming. But even before I said that, I could tell something was wrong. When she looked up, I saw it. There were scratches all over her face. "Yeah, it's all fine." she said. But there was something off about her voice. It lacked emotion, almost like an A. I. "Hana..." I said cautiously. "What are those scratches all over your face?" "What scratches, brother?" Hana said. "Hana... are you alright?" I asked. "Should I check in the mirror, brother?" She asked, once again with no emotion in her voice. Without giving me time to respond, she slowly got up, and walked into the bathroom. Nervously, I followed her. When we got to the mirror, that's when I saw it. The scratches were tiny letters. A. H., A. H. over and over again. A. H. Alexander Hamilton. "I don't see any scratches, brother." Hana said as I slowly walked out of the bathroom, grabbed my backpack and coat, and half-walked, half-ran to school, trying to forget that that morning had happened. That night leading into the next day was very similar to that awful morning, but the singing was back. I was grateful to hear any sound come out of Hana besides the sad, toneless voice she had used that morning. But November 15, two days before the play, I saw something that terrifies me to this day. I was downstairs, probably playing video games or listening to music, when I heard My Shot coming from Hana's room, but there was something wrong with it. I could hear the words clearly, but they also sounded... backwards. I went upstairs to go see, curious, and I am so glad, so so glad that I opened that door (although I suppose it wouldn't have mattered). My sister was laying, half-dead, on her floor, with a small pool of blood around her. I ran down to her to see if she was alive, and turned her over. Her hair color had gone back to normal, and her heart was beating at a normal pace. I tried to find where she was bleeding from, and it was the marks. A. H. All of them were bleeding very slowly. I looked up and around the room to see if there was anything wrong with the decoration of her room and believe me, there was. The first thing I noticed was some red writing on her wall that said "THERE IS A MILLION THINGS I HAVEN'T DONE" I jumped back, startled. Out of all of the horrifying things that I had seen on the week leading up to that point, this was by far the worst. I don't really know, by that point what I was expecting next, but it wasn't what I found. Under the red writing, there was some pictures of Alexander Hamilton's head, held up by a knife. All of the eyes were X'd out, also in red. And above the cluster of photos was one word. Kill. I jumped up, out of Hana's room, and started running for mom's room. "MOM, MOM, MOM!" I screamed, terrified. "What is it, honey?" My mom looked up. "Come into Hana's room, quickly!" I said. My mom got up off her bed and followed me into Hana's room. When she saw the floor, her face dropped. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no..." my mom quickly knealt downand cupped Hana's head. "Quickly, call 9-1-1!" my mother said. My phone is chargin by the bed. I rushed back into my mom's room, fumbled with her phone, and made an emergency call to 9-1-1. "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" "Help, my sister is bleeding out in her bedroom!" "What's your address?" In the panic, I forgot my address for a second. "Oh! 8286 North Greenland Drive, Milwaukee, Wisconsin!" I said as quickly as I could. "O. K. we will have an ambulance over as quickly as possible, just hang tight, O. K?" "O. K, thank you so much!" The 9-1-1 operator hung up. I rushed back into Hana's room. "O. K, there is an ambulance on the way!" I said quickly. My mom was trying not to cry. "Thank you, so much!" She said through tears. In about 10 minutes, the ambulance arrived at our house. My mom picked up Hana and rushed outside and in about 2 minutes, we were in the ambulance, rushing back to the hospital. We got into one of the hospital rooms so a doctor could see when we might be able to get Hana out. "You should be able to get your daughter out at around 1:30 tomorrow, ma'am." the doctor said calmly. "Oh my god, thank you so much, doctor!" my mom said, giving Hana one last kiss on the forehead before she pushed me out the door and we headed home. The next day, my mom picked me up early from school and we left to go get Hana. When we got there, Hana was in the waiting room, looking totally healthy as if nothing hd happened the day before. The scars were gone. The scars were gone. They had somehow either gone from the night before, or I hallucinated them being gone. Turns out it was the hallucinations that was what really happened. That night was essencially the same as the previous night. I was downstairs, playing video games when I heard it. I heard the weird distorted, backwards version of My Shot. Dread deep in my stomach, I rushed upstairs expecting the same thing as the night before. I didn't get that. I tried to rush in to Hana's room, but I couldn't open the door. Now keep in mind that Hana's room did not have any lock whatsoever on her door. Whatever it was, it could not have been natural. I tried to look thorugh one of the cracks in the door, and I caught a brief glimpse of what I had to think was a hallucination, or a bad dream or something. Turns out it wasn't. It was Hana, but there was blood dripping down from her face. But the thing is, the blood was gold. She seemed to be floating, almost, and giving off a faint aura. The writing was gone, and there was now real blood, red blood, dripping from the ceiling. I tried to bash her door down, but I couldn't. I was starting to go crazy for just hearing backwards My Shot on constant repeat. The more I tried to open her door, however, I could feel whatever was inside growing weaker. I wanted to win this fight. I wanted to save my sister. Eventually, after ten to fifteen more tries, I was able to get the door open. Do you remember how earlier in this letter, I mentioned that opening Hana's door on the night of November 15th wouldn't have mattered? Well, now I guess you will know why. I opened the door, and Hana just fell over. She had another poll of blood around her, but bigger. Blood was not dripping from the ceiling anymore. Horrified, I rushed down to Hana to feel a heartbeat. To feel anything. Nothing. I started to cry. My sister, although she had been pretty annoying, had died the night before the thing she had been so excited for for two weeks now. My mom must have heard me, because she came rushing into Hana's room, and when she saw Hana's dead body, fell over. And then she started bleeding. Gold. first a little bit out of the fingertips, then a trickle from the ears. suddenly she got back up on her knees without using her hands. When I saw her face, I was scarred and saw something that you just can't forget. Her eyes were completely hallowed out and her nose was just a steady drip of gold blood into her mouth when she talked. Oh yeah, and her voice also was weird and distorted and backwards, like Hana singing My Shot. "''KILLLLLLLL MEEEEEEE... KILLLLLLLL HAMILTOOOOON..." ''is what came out of her mouth, but not in her voice. Staggering to my feet, I stumbled backwards. I grabbed the knife out of Hana's wall and brang it down on my own, poor mother's head, sobbing while I did so. So that is the story of the night my mother and sister died. That was 15 years ago, and I am now happily married and have a daughter of my own, named Samantha. Hamilton decided to make another stop in Milwaukee, and Sammy has been begging to go. So I had to find a good deal for tickets for my wife and daughter to go. I could never forget that awful night of November 16th, 2019, and I never will, but I must hope that the same fate won't befall my beloved family. Well, I have to go. Samantha is crying from the other room. I think she might have accidentally cut herself. But if you ever need somebody to talk to, I'm here. Your loving friend, Jared